


and hold your hand.

by SeeThemFlying



Series: Unspoken [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime's mind runs away with him, Or alternative S8, Post ADWD, There was only one bed!, book canon, or only one sheepskin..., technically, there is tension, your choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27786478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Yet in spite of his respect for his men and his need of a warm fire, neither were the true reason Jaime had come to the Great Hall. In truth, he wanted to be with Brienne on his last night on earth.With his wench.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Unspoken [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024483
Comments: 42
Kudos: 164





	and hold your hand.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlicienneOfTarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicienneOfTarth/gifts).



> Thanks for coming back and reading! This one is for AlicienneOfTarth: I love her fics, and she has left some very gracious comments on my fics in her time, so I hope she enjoys this!

With the dead advancing across the horizon, the living were making the most of their last night. Crammed into Winterfell, they huddled for warmth. It was nothing like the South during the summer, but it was better than being outside in the biting cold. Having arrived at the castle at the head of a red and gold army, the power of the Westerlands at his back, the Starks had offered Ser Jaime Lannister a private room. He had been thankful for the offer but had ultimately refused; it seemed so wrong to spend his last night in luxury while his men shivered in the makeshift tents that had been hastily erected in the bailey or gathered around the few fires in the castle seeking warmth and light. Consequently, he found shelter in the Great Hall, with many of the other refugees who had retreated to the Stark's ancestral castle in the hope of clinging onto life.

Yet in spite of his respect for his men and his need of a warm fire, neither were the true reason Jaime had come to the Great Hall. In truth, he wanted to be with Brienne on his last night on earth.

With his wench.

Jaime found her with Pod helping the boy settle down by the fire. She had brought both of them shaggy sheepskins to sleep under and was making sure her squire was comfortable. Even in the orange glow of the firelight, Jaime could see that Pod was looking whey-faced and nervous at the thought of the fight in the morning. Acknowledging his worry, Brienne was speaking to him quietly.

"We will be at each other's side the whole time and I will not let anything happen to you, Pod, just as you will not let anything happen to me," she said gently, the gold light of the fire dancing with the shadow to illuminate her strong countenance. Jaime's heart flipped in his chest, before slowly warming his whole body. Having spent hours negotiating with the Starks, it was nice to be back with Brienne, the place he felt safest. "And I am sure Ser Jaime would protect you too, won't you Jaime?"

When her hand came to rest on his arm, Jaime realised that he had crossed the room and sat down beside her without consciously deciding to. He hardly cared that some of the people huddled in the room started at him - with his golden hand and golden hair, he was pretty conspicuous - because he felt as if he was exactly where he needed to be. Brienne was gazing at him, the fire was warm, and the end of the world was upon them; it was a poignant paradise.

"Jaime?"

He blinked.

 _Oh,_ he thought stupidly, as he finally freed himself from the magnetic pull of her eyes. _She asked me a question._

"Yes, Brienne?"

Her expression grew a little drawn, then she withdrew her hand from his arm. "I just asked if you would protect Pod during the battle."

"Of course," he replied, edging slightly closer to her. "I will try and protect all my men, everyone who is serving under me. Including you, Pod... and Lady Brienne."

To show how much he meant it, Jaime reached out to rest his hand on her forearm. He so longed to be closer to her, but to his disappointment she seemed tense and pulled her arm away from him. "Thank you, ser, but I can take care of myself."

"Still, I would not have anything happen to you, wench."

Although the fire changed the palette of her skin tone, Jaime would recognise her blush anywhere, extending from her cheeks, down her neck, and under the collar of her cambric shirt. He could not help but wonder where it finished; at her collarbone, at the centre of her chest, at the tips of her rosebud nipples...

"Neither would I, Lady Brienne," said Pod, his voice slightly squeaky due to the fact it was currently taking the arduous journey between boyhood and manhood. Jaime sucked in a breath when he remembered how young Pod was, not yet the age he had been when he had joined Aerys' Kingsguard.

Jaime smiled. "Then you and I shall guard the lady together, Pod."

The boy nodded and tried to return his grin, but instead a shadow caught behind his eyes. "I will try my best... but we are not fighting a human army as we were on the Blackwater. We are fighting the dead and... what is dead may never die."

"Did a Greyjoy tell you that?" asked Jaime, his lips quirking. "Because I would not trust those salty seadogs. They have a habit of upsetting us greenlanders."

He had hoped that gentle joke would bring a smile to Pod's face, but his expression remained sullen. "Still... I'm scared."

"We are all scared," admitted Brienne, pulling the sheepskin up and around Podrick. "You can't be brave unless you are scared. It is in the standing up to your own terror that you can find your courage."

Podrick's eyes went wide. "Is that true, Ser Jaime?"

"Of course." He once more tried to reach out and take Brienne's hand, but she quickly bunched her hands into the sheepskin to keep him at bay. At her parrying move, Jaime's own courage faltered. "It is only in fear that you can be brave... and reach out for what you truly want."

At that statement, Brienne's gaze finally caught his, her cheeks inflame once again. It was clear she had sensed what Jaime was truly trying to say, and was a little frightened of it. "Jaime, I..."

"Shh! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Brienne's annoyance drained from her at once at that rebuke, and she turned to Pod in order to regain control of the situation. "That man is right. We should not make too much noise, and it is probably time to get some sleep. We have a battle to fight tomorrow, a castle to defend, and courage to muster. Come, Pod. You should rest."

"Of course, my lady," Pod said, pulling the sheepskin around him. "We _should_ sleep. Do you want the space by the fire?"

She shook her head. "No, you take it."

_Oh, she's so good. So kind. So caring..._

"I suppose this is good night, Ser Jaime."

It took him a few moments to register what she had said.

"Pardon, Lady Brienne?"

She pulled the sheepskin across her lap, then shuffled closer to Podrick. Jaime hoped it was because she wanted to be nearer her squire and not further away from him. "Lady Sansa offered you a room. I assumed you would retire..."

"No, I did not want to leave my men. We have to fight side by side tomorrow. How does it help moral if I slumber on an eiderdown bed? It is better if I curl up by the fire in the Great Hall with everyone else."

 _With you,_ Jaime wanted to add, even as his courage failed him.

Brienne did not offer a response to his plan; instead, she pulled her sheepskin up around herself and tried to settle onto the hard stone floor. Even though she was big and strong, there was something about Brienne that was always small and innocent. As she pulled the sheepskin up to her chin, Jaime wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around her in order to keep her shielded from both shadows and shivers.

"Jaime?"

"Yes."

"You are staring at me."

"Am I?" he said, matching her blush for blush. "I am sorry."

She smiled at him shyly. "That is quite alright but... do you have a sheepskin or cloak of your own? It will be cold, especially if you are too far away from the fire."

Jaime shook his head. "No, I..." The Lion of Lannister had always thought himself a brave man, but there was something about the way that Brienne peered at him with her sapphire eyes over the top of her sheepskin that made him feel like a green boy. He had only even been with Cersei before; how was he meant to persuade an innocent young maiden to let him under her furs without sounding like a lecherous old man? "I do not have a sheepskin, my lady. Just the clothes you find me in."

"Then you should share mine," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "Lady Sansa would not have one of the generals of the Army of the Living freezing the night before the battle."

She smiled at him so sweetly that Jaime laughed, earning him yet another _shhh_ from a person sleeping nearby. Knowing that Brienne was like to chide him again for his loudness, Jaime wasted no time in taking his place beside his wench, letting her pull the sheepskin up around him, even as he longed for her to abandon the sheepskin and keep him warm with her body.

"Goodnight, Jaime."

"Goodnight, Brienne."

With that, Brienne moved away from him, lying down on her back and then turning her head towards the fire; away from Jaime, but keeping Pod in her eyeline. Jaime mirrored her, wanting to feel closer to her, even though they weren't touching. 

Gods, Jaime so wanted to touch her. He wanted to curl up beside her and hold her in his arms, resting his head in the crook of her neck. She would be so warm and strong beside him that he would grow hard - hells, he was _already_ hard - but he would not ask anything of her. Being close to her was enough, being by her side was enough, here at the end of the world.

As he laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, Jaime tried to ignore the coil of want that had settled in his belly. Brienne was so close that he could feel the heat of her body more than the cold of the flagstones, and her right hand was resting inches from his left. Things were made even worse by the soft sounds coming from around them. Although Podrick's snoring was loud and obnoxious, Jaime's ears picked out the sound of a couple in the corner of the room. Wanting to make the most of their last night together, they had huddled under a cloak and were now fucking with the kind of desperation Jaime had only seen in soldiers before a battle. Alongside the sound of kissing, there was the rhythmical wet thrusting, the soft slapping of skin-on-skin, and gentle moans of satisfaction.

 _If only I could be so brave,_ Jaime thought.

What would happen if he surrendered all his fears and gave into his lust? Brienne was not so far away. If she wanted to remain a maiden, there were ways and means. They could just kiss - deeply, passionately - while Brienne unlaced his breeches and brought him to completion with her hand. In return, he would use his fingers, gentling her moans with careful kisses at the corners of her mouth. She would squeeze her legs together and he would slip his cock between them, rutting between her thighs, thrusting easily due to her wetness, spilling over her most intimate flesh. Or perhaps he would not be able to resist and would stick his cock inside her where they both wanted it. At first, he would hold back, not wanting to hurt his maiden, but soon the warm, inviting feel of her would be too much and he would thrust inside her, sheathing his cock to the hilt. Marvelling at this wonderful closeness, he would come inside her, panting her name in her ear.

_Brienne... Brienne... Brienne..._

"Jaime."

He opened his eyes; he felt so hot, as if the slightest brush of contact with her would set him aflame.

"Yes, wench."

Jaime turned to look at her and, to his joy, he discovered that she had tilted her head in order to meet his gaze. The ache between his legs suddenly turned into a pang of the heart, so he reached out and took her hand. A flicker of fear passed across her face, but then Brienne settled into the intimacy and marshalled her courage. Her innocent bravery made him smile.

"If you could do anything on your last night in the world, what would be?"

Her eyes contained all the light in the world, turning the fire into mere embers, and making him feel as if every star he had seen before was distant and inconsequential. At the sight of her like that - soft, close, and (dare he say it) yearning - Jaime's heart opened as wide as it could in order to let her in.

"I would be with you, Brienne," he said simply. "I would be with you, any way you wanted me."

There were many women that Jaime knew had been charmed by him before and he often recognised the softness that would overtake their expressions when he said something sweet. However, Brienne was not just any woman, so shook her head and retreated into her shell.

"You do not have to flatter me, ser. I know that your sister..."

"I have not cared for my sister in a long time," he said, squeezing her hand tighter. He did not want her pulling away for him over rumours and false truths. "Cersei will always be my sister, but she does not occupy my heart anymore."

It was only then that Jaime noticed Brienne was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as she weighed up what he had just said. He knew that Brienne was a tentative, fearful creature when it came to love, but hoped against all hope that she would find a way to muster her courage as she did before a battle. Staring at him with those sapphires of hers - that had the ability to both disarm him and render him naked - Brienne rolled on her side to survey him properly, letting go of his hand as he did so.

"If Cersei no longer occupies your heart, who does?"

Jaime Lannister had always been loquacious; armed with a cutting barb or a gentle joke, he knew how to break under an opponent's armour with mere words. Yet he did not wish to harm Brienne and knew that any words he gave her would be taken with suspicion. Therefore, Jaime did not verbally answer her, but with his body.

Her kiss was nervous but sweet, made all the better when she let him pull her closer and wrap his arms around her. Jaime teased her lips apart with his tongue so he could kiss her more deeply, until she was breathless and keening, and it was a beautiful relief when she chased his tongue back into his own mouth, grasping at his hair as she did so. Although his hardness was pressed against her thigh, Brienne did not seem abashed or shy about it, and instead pivoted her hips in order to rub herself against him more closely.

"Wench," he breathed against her jaw as he began to rut against her, his whole body catching fire at their intimacy. "What do you want from me? Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you. Anything, _anything._ "

Perhaps sensing the desperation in his tone, Brienne pulled back and gave him a teasing look.

"Tonight I want your body," she whispered with all the bravery she could muster. "And tomorrow... well, I will tell you what I want of you once we have both survived."

Smiling at her unlimited courage, Jaime pulled Brienne in for yet another kiss...

And the rest of the world stood still.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you have the time to leave a comment, I would greatly appreciate it.


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